Watching my ass: at play in the fields of the ghost of Billy the Kid
Historic 12th Street in Carrizozo is well protected. Not a single human about on a Saturday but every way one turns there’s a watcher.
From rooftops, alcoves and walls: one gets the eerie sense of being seen. Of being in the presence of an intelligence.
Maybe the combination of art and ancient (more than a hundred year old) buildings
Maybe the New Mexico overarching blue has blown my mind.
A high proportion of the watching eyes are the Painted Burros of Southeast New Mexico